


Til We Reach the End (And Then We’ll Start Again)

by Rainbowcat



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 15:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9331838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbowcat/pseuds/Rainbowcat
Summary: Nick and Judy decide to get married.It's a little tougher than they anticipated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic, like most things in my life, is dedicated to Max.

“We took down a llama gambling ring,” Nick is counting on his fingers, “exposed criminally anticompetitive price fixing schemes among rodent-owned hotel chains, stopped the illegal smuggling of federally noncompliant kibble, prevented one assistant mayor from incriminating innocent predators by turning them savage-” he gives Judy, whose ears had been drooping, a hopeful nudge, “-we wrote way more traffic tickets than any cop with our accolades should respectably have been assigned to – and you’re telling me that our hardest task as partners is _marriage_?”

“One more,” she says in return, heavy. “We’re gonna try one more place, and if that doesn’t work out, we’ll-”

“Retire to a nice cottage in the woods with the simply _enormous_ salary we’ve made in the ZPD?” Nick suggests wryly. “Only ever interacting with the nice squirrel who delivers the Zootopia Times? We’ll be rich enough. We don’t need the federal tax breaks, nooo. I’m filing single for the rest of my life.”

Judy tries on a smile. “It’s not even about the taxes,” she says, even though Nick has heard it at least half a dozen times a day since the idea first came up. “It’s about-”

“Expressing our love and devotion in a formal manner, I know, I know,” he finishes for her. “You bunnies and your rituals. Come on, we’re here.”

He pulls his coat tighter against the chill wind. Why a skunk would set up shop in Tundra Town, neither of them is exactly sure. Judy is also not encouraged by the weathered sign above the store: _A. Roma, Notary Public & Oficiant_. If the guy can’t spell correctly, how is he certified to marry anyone?

The inside, despite being warm enough, does little to dispel Judy’s doubts. The lighting is dim, and the office – more like a small room, really – carries the smell of burnt coffee. In the corner, a frazzled snow leopard is rocking her whimpering baby.

“Well,” Nick says, gung-ho as ever. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand. Hah, how’s that for a trip down memory lane?” And he marches right up to the counter.

A. Roma, is, in a word, ancient. His fur is entirely white with age; he peers at the two of them over thick glasses as they approach, Nick surefooted and Judy apprehensive.

“Hello, good sir,” Nick says, resting his elbow next to a sad pile of business cards. “My fiancée and I would like to get married.”

The skunk lifts his head slowly. Judy has an absurd flashback to one Department of Mammal Vehicles, all those years ago. Then she remembers she isn’t here to run a plate, and then she remembers what she is _actually_ here for, and does her best to look acquiescent.

“What?”

“I think his hearing’s going,” Nick mutters to Judy.

“Shh,” she admonishes. “You don’t want him to blast us.”

Nick snorts. “I don’t think this guy’s blasted anyone in years. Sir,” he says, raising his voice. “We would like to sign the necessary paperwork for a maaa-rriage.” 

A. Roma squints at them. “I’ve never seen a wolf and a guinea pig file for marriage,” he says in his feeble voice. Nick opens his mouth to correct him. Judy steps on his foot. Together, they hold their breath. “Sign here, please.” And he lays a sheet of paper on the desk in front of them.

Judy leans in, skeptical. But the government’s letterhead adorns the top of the page, and so she picks up the pen warily. She glances over her shoulder at Nick, who puts a hand on the back of her neck. Feeling bolder, she signs her name, and hands the pen over to Nick.

They head back into the blizzard a few moments later, Judy hanging on to the tiny receipt that is her only proof that this occasion just came to pass. She feels light-headed. 

“Hey, wifey, congrats!” Nick calls out over the storm, laughing and twirling her around. “Mrs. Judy Hopps. Oh, or are you going to change your name? Judy Wilde?”

She likes the sound of that more than she cares to admit, but she gives him a shove so that he stumbles into the snow, still grinning at her. “In your dreams. What’s gonna be the first thing we do as a married couple?”

“I thought we were still investing in that forest cabin?” Nick says with false innocence, but then the walkie-talkie on his belt buzzes and he sighs a little. “Just kidding. We’re gonna go handle this noise complaint, probably.”

He picks himself up and they exit Tundra Town, arm in arm.

***

Truth be told, getting this little piece of paper that Judy keeps carefully tucked in her pants pocket had been far from easy. Maybe not as hard as taking down smugglers or gamblers, as Nick had suggested, but hard in a much different way than either of them were accustomed to.

First, there was the purely practical matter of finding an officiant. Naively, they had assumed it would be a nonissue. So they set their date – the anniversary of the date that Judy had booted Nick’s stroller (and it’d all been downhill from there) – and headed to the first officiant that came up on Zoogle Maps, located in a shiny building right across from the ZPD. 

The primly-dressed mole across the desk had taken one look at their faces and sent them away.

That was the first attempt.

Two, three, and four had similarly fallen through, earning them looks of scorn or pity even as they were firmly shooed out the door. Despairing, Judy dove back into her legal textbooks, but not a single code prohibited officiants from denying them.

“Interspecies marriages are definitely legal,” she said, faceplanting into _Zootopia Laws and Regulations: Ed. 13, Vol. 2_. “But so is refusing services to anyone. You can object out of ‘moral grounds.’ Whatever that means.”

“Don’t we have friends at City Hall?” Nick asked as he took off his badge and tossed it on the table.

“You’re referring to the corrupt Assistant Mayor Bellwether?” Judy said drily. “Who’s now in jail? We definitely know other people there too, but by the time they pass an anti-discrimination law, we’ll be too old to care about marriage anymore.”

“Cheerful,” Nick said.

*

And those were only the logistical struggles. The repercussions of their engagement had extended much further than that.

One morning at work, Judy found herself on complaints duty with another bunny police officer from out of town who was on detail with the ZPD. The lady was around her own age, but the similarities ended there. 

“Top of the morning to ya,” Nick said, handing Judy a much-needed mug of coffee and inclining his head at the visitor – Nellie? Nessie? He winked at Judy and disappeared.

Judy smiled at his retreating figure and accepted a stack of papers from the new officer, who had watched the exchange with interest.

“So what’s it like?” Nellie-or-Nessie asked, leaning in conspirationally. “Having a fox as a partner.”

Judy turned to look at where Nick’s tail had swished out of sight. “It’s great, really,” she said honestly. “Everyone only knows the negative stereotypes about foxes, you know, that they’re self-serving or whatever, but Nick’s got these wonderful instincts which make him so good at his job. He’s clever, and he sees things that some of the other cops might not. And yeah, a lot of police partners are these huge, I don’t know, lions and buffalo and hippos, but I wouldn’t trade Nick for them. Not that I don’t love my colleagues,” she added with a laugh, “but we’ve worked so well together ever since my first case on the job, when he wasn’t even an officer yet, can you believe it, he was just-”

“Oh,” Nellie-or-Nessie cut her off, smiling in a way Judy couldn’t quite decipher. “No, I meant as a _partner_. You guys are together, right?”

Judy snapped her mouth shut, startled.

“It’s okay,” the lady said, continuing to smile in that odd way. “I guessed based on the way you looked at each other. Wow. What’s that _like_? You hear like, all these things about foxes. I’ve never been with one myself, but, wow. I’ve always wanted to. You know.”

Judy felt her face burning.

“But you probably have a boyfriend, too, right?” Nellie-or-Nessie plowed on, oblivious. “Like, back home.”

“Actually,” Judy ground out before she could stop herself. “Nick’s my fiancé.”

That shut her up. Nellie-or-Nessie’s stupid smile froze on her face. “Oh,” she said with false cheer. “Well. Uh. That’s, that’s something.”

“Is there anything else we need to do for this?” Judy asked coldly, indicating the paperwork.

“Oh, no, no thank you. I’ll be headed back to my office now. See you later, sweetie.”

*

It was not an isolated incident. A few days later, Judy and Nick were taking a walk on an off-duty day, enjoying the weather and laughing together at the efforts of street merchants to peddle their wares.

“Hey, that used to be you!” Judy said, nodding at a young koala selling ice cream and popsicles on the sidewalk. “I sure hope he’s paying his taxes.”

“Well, if he’s not, he might get a really good job offer out of the deal,” Nick joked.

“Are you still in touch with your partner from back then? Your ‘son,’ ha. What was his name again?”

But Nick was prevented from answering when they nearly bumped into a rhino in the sidewalk, towering above them and staring down nosily.

“Oh, excuse me,” Judy said politely, moving to two-step with the rhino, who still didn’t budge. He was wearing earphones, basketball shorts, and a tank. Judy assumed they had interrupted his jog. Or his mid-sidewalk weight lifting, maybe, if the size of his arms was any indicator.

Nick was not fazed. “Scurry along there, Tiny, we’ve all got places to be.”

The rhino lifted one earbud and looked back and forth between the two of them. Judy’s stomach lurched a little, as thought it was prescient of something she wasn’t.

“That your girl?” he rumbled down at them. “You and her?”

Nick’s nose wrinkled. “That’s my _fiancée_. Well observed, kind sir, and excuse us-”

“ _Nice_ ,” the rhino interrupted, and held a massive fist in front of Nick. “Get it.”

Nick’s jaw dropped. Judy had rarely seen him at a loss for words, but this stranger’s angling for a fist-bump was clearly one such moment. She felt the heat rise to her own face, even though the rhino had long since stopped paying attention to her after his initial once-over.

Nick gave a startled snort, eyes flashing, and pushed the stranger’s fist away. “Come on, Judy,” he muttered, giving her a gentle tug and leading her around the rhino.

They walked in stunned silence for a few seconds. It took Judy a moment to identify the feeling that had wrapped cold hands around her heart, the reason she was feeling so unclean: humiliation. Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes and she swallowed them back furiously, not wanting to let Nick see.

Nick took a breath, as though to crack a joke; he took one glance at her face and his expression fell. “Come on, time to go home,” he said quietly, and they walked – not speaking, not touching – back to where their car was parked.

*

There was more.

One drizzly Thursday morning, Judy was rolling up her yoga mat after class, making small-talk with a friend of hers.

“It’s not fair,” Jessica huffed, waggling long bunny ears. “Our instructor is a panther. All cats are naturally flexible! You think I can bend my spine like that?”

“Hey, he’s patient,” Judy allowed.

“His patience won’t make me more bendy.” Jessica shrugged. “Want to get some coffee?”

Judy stuffed the mat into her backpack. “Sure, as long as it’s quick. I told Nick I’d meet him for lunch before our shift. We’re trying a new thing where we don’t talk about work outside of work.”

Jessica laughed, but something in her expression was off, as though Judy’s words hadn’t properly registered.

Only when they sat down at the café did Judy learn why.

“Judy,” Jessica began, her eyes cautious but determined. She reached across the little square table and took Judy’s hand. “I’m worried about you.”

“What?” Judy said. “Oh, is this about the work thing? Jess, it’s alright. Nick and I are both sort of workaholics, but I think we’ve struck a pretty good balance.”

Jessica took a measured sip. “No, uh, nothing to do with work. Just Nick, actually.”

Judy lifted her hand out of Jessica’s, cautious. “What about him?”

“Well, you’ve been talking about getting engaged to Nick for a few weeks now-”

“We _are_ engaged, and it’s been two months,” Judy protested.

“-but I’m not sure it’s such a great idea,” Jessica finished, overriding Judy. “Have you really thought this through?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Judy said, instant.

“It’s just,” Jessica continued, looking down at the table, “I don’t know, this seems a bit, hmm, rash? I know you guys have been colleagues for a while, and that’s okay, but marriage? Judy, honey, his kind and ours don’t really... well. You know.”

“Mix?” Judy suggested, a cold furor rising in her. “His _kind_? Our kind? You mean preds and prey? I’m sorry, did I just fall asleep and wake up last century?” 

“Marriage is something else,” Jessica said stubbornly. “Roger and I both think you should wait a little bit. There are so many nice bunnies here, we’d be happy to set you up with one-”

Judy stood. In a distant part of her mind, she registered a hint of pride that she could refrain from shaking, or from banging her fist on the table. “I have to meet Nick for lunch,” she said, fishing far too much money out of her wallet and tossing it down without a second glance. “Here. My treat.”

*

They headed back to Bunnyburrow to tell Judy’s parents. Judy anticipated trouble there, given her hometown’s rural location and that all of her childhood friends had dutifully married their next-door neighbors – within their own species, of course. But what she hadn’t anticipated was trouble even before she got home.

Nick and Judy took a seat on the train, overnight bags packed for a weekend away. An hour into the ride, Judy was sprawled half in her fiancé’s lap, both of them laughing at the ZooTube videos Nick had pulled up on his phone.

They were three minutes and forty-seven seconds into EPIC PIG PARKOUR FAILS PART THREE when Judy heard a none-too polite cough right above them.

She glanced up into the face of a kangaroo, wearing the sort of disapproving expression she associated with her father whenever Stu had caught her forcing her little siblings to play at cops and robbers. 

Nick paused the video. “Can I help you?” he asked mildly.

The kangaroo sniffed. “My wife and children are sitting over there,” he told them in hushed tones.

“Mazel tov,” Nick answered, finger already hovering over the play button.

“So I would appreciate,” the stranger pushed on, “you being less… public… about your relationship.”

“Less _public_?” Nick half-rose out of his seat; Judy pulled him back down, her ears already drooping. “Yeah. You could also leave?”

Judy didn’t want to look, but her gaze was drawn almost involuntarily at the row where the kangaroo family was sitting. Two joeys were peering at Nick and Judy with wide eyes, but their mother turned them away, muttering under her breath. 

The father looked as though he was ready to retort when Judy stood. “It’s fine,” she said coldly. “We’ll get out of your fur. Excuse us.”

She relocated to a new compartment, Nick following silently. Judy’s heart was beating in her throat. When they sat, Nick put his arm around her, stubborn as ever.

“Hey,” Nick said quietly after a while. “After we get married, we should have a ceremony.”

She turned to him, forgetting the roos in her surprise. “I thought you said you didn’t want one?”

Nick shrugged, the gesture betraying self-consciousness. “Yeah, but it matters to you. And what matters to you matters to me.”

Judy wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his chest, suddenly grateful for Nick in a way that defied articulation. They stayed there, Nick’s chin on top of her head, for the rest of the train ride.

*

There was one hurdle that Judy _had_ anticipated: telling her parents.

“Honey,” Bonnie said, voice thick with emotion, as Judy dropped her bags on the platform and ran into her mother’s arms. She felt Stu wrap both of them in a hug; further away, she could sense Nick’s presence, watchful and awkward.

When they finally broke apart, Nick was standing there, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Bonnie and Stu had met Nick before in several contexts, and Judy had long since told her parents about their relationship, but this was the first time Nick had come home to Bunnyburrow, and he looked desperately out of place.

“Hello,” Stu offered, stilted, and shook Nick’s hand. “Can I, uh, take your bag?”

“Oh, no, no, I’ve got it, thank you,” Nick said pleasantly, though Judy caught the nervousness in his eyes. She tried on an encouraging smile.

“Well,” Judy said with only semi-forced cheer. “Shall we?”

 

Dinner went better than expected, but then again, Judy hadn’t expected much.

They made smalltalk first, Nick and Judy sharing work anecdotes – leaving out some of the more exciting car- and foot-chases, unfortunately, so as not to induce any heart attacks – and her parents offering up news of the farm. It was only after the last few slices of blueberry pie had been portioned off onto everyone’s plates that Bonnie and Stu turned expectant eyes on Judy.

“So, what’s the big news, Jude?” Stu asked. “You seemed pretty excited over the phone. Don’t tell us. They’re promoting you to chief!”

Judy fidgeted, but she glanced over at Nick’s face, which was shrouded in both hope and anxiety, and steeled herself. “No, no, Bogo’s never going to step down for the rest of his days,” she said, laughing nervously. “Actually, Mom, Dad… Nick and I… are engaged.”

Her parents spoke at the same time. “What?” Bonnie said, just as Stu asked, “Both of you?”

There was a confused silence; it took Judy a second to parse her dad’s question. “No,” she said gently. “To each other.”

“Oh!” Her parents had spoken simultaneously again, drawing back in their surprise. 

“Well, uh, congratulations,” Bonnie said, and her expression was inscrutable. Judy had an unpleasant déjà vu of the moment in which she had first boarded the train to Zootopia, leaving her parents behind on the platform. Their faces were the same way now, as though she was rolling off to a future they could neither follow nor approve of.

“That’s great, Judy, Nick, really,” Stu added, but he was looking at Bonnie.

“We were going to get married officially back in Zootopia, but we’d like a ceremony,” Nick offered quietly. Judy knew without looking at him that he was wary of shattering the tenuous calm in the Hopps household. “With your permission, we’d love to have that here. In Bunnyburrow.”

This generated surprise from all three of them, but Judy did not dare to comment on what was news even to her as Bonnie’s expression softened. “Of course, Nick,” her mom said. “We would love that.”

 

Despite Bonnie’s assertion to Nick, Judy knew that the battle was far from over. The next morning, she joined her mom in the field for some harvesting, leaving poor Nick to bond with his soon-to-be father-in-law.

“And you’re sure about this?” Bonnie asked without preamble. It was not necessary to clarify what “this” referred to.

“Yeah, Mom,” Judy said, brushing dirt off of a handful of radishes. “It’s gonna happen. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, or, or, or mad, but… I love him. And he loves me. And we’re such good partners, in our work and outside it too. So it just makes sense to. Tie the knot.”

She had rehearsed this speech in the mirror many times – Nick walked in on her once, and though he teased her, she knew he was moved – but she still couldn’t meet her mother’s eyes. Her words sounded small to her own ears.

“It’s just,” Bonnie said, and Judy could tell her mother was struggling to euphemize. Bonnie gave up the ghost just a moment later. “He’s a _fox_.”

“You _hired_ a fox,” Judy said, and her temper flared in spite of herself. “I thought you put these prejudices behind you.”

“Of course we’re not prejudiced,” Bonnie shot back. “We’re just trying to protect you, hon, and this – well, we hired a fox, sure, but getting married seems like an awfully big step. It’s just, it’s unheard of.”

“Bunnies being cops was unheard of too, until I _did it_ ,” Judy reminded her, hating how similar her mother’s words were to Jessica’s. “Mom, it’s really not going to be a huge change from the way things are now. And we’re already working together and living together. And this is going to make our finances and such a lot easier to deal with.”

Bonnie didn’t say anything as she moved into the blueberry bushes, and for a fleeting moment of triumph, Judy thought she had won. 

“But what about your _children_?” Bonnie asked in a low voice, and Judy groaned.

“Mom – seriously. It’s fine. Nick and I have already talked about it, and neither of us want kids, anyway.”

Bonnie dropped her box; blueberries scattered across the dirt.

“You don’t want _kids_?” Bonnie said, her voice rising to a squeak. “Honey – Judy – that’s crazy talk. _Every_ bunny wants kids. That’s part of our lives! Tending to our own, carrot farming, raising children-”

“And how many of those things do you know me to do?” Judy said quietly.

This time, her mom remained silent. They picked berries for a while, Judy trying, and failing, and trying again to find the right words.

“Look,” she said finally. “Mom. I love Nick. That’s the bottom line here. We’ve thought this out very, very carefully. And we’re going to get married no matter what. But honestly, your and Dad’s support would mean the world to me. That’s why we came out here before we got officiated.”

For a moment, Judy thought her mom was just going to ignore her. But just as she turned her back, resigned, Bonnie spoke.

“If this really is what you want – if he makes you happy – then we’ll support you.”

***

And that’s how they end up face to face in Bunnyburrow only a few short weeks later, saying their “I do's” on a breezy summer’s day. They decide to make their wedding a small, intimate affair, inviting only their mutual friends, colleagues, their parents, and a few hundred of Judy’s cousins and siblings.

They wear their most formal police uniforms, matching all of their colleagues who by and large (emphasis on _large_ ) stand out among a sea of bunnies. Judy doesn’t cry, but Nick definitely does. Or, as he insists later, he sheds the smallest and most masculine of tears.

The day goes by in a blur. Judy gets handshakes and hugs from dozens of relatives, dances with her parents, who, unlike Nick, are weeping openly, and gets to show off her new ring to her youngest sisters. She finds Clawhauser by the food table, who twirls her in the air in-between sampling all of the petits fours. She gets cake shoved in her face by her husband, and oh, how that word will take her some getting used to.

Speaking of which, Nick steals her away at regular intervals to dance or just sit at one of the fold-out tables, giving her a chance to breathe and begin processing it all. It’s during one of these quiet moments that Chief Bogo approaches them, accompanied by someone Judy doesn’t know.

“Congratulations. Lovely ceremony,” Bogo drawls, sounding as enthusiastic as if he were commenting on the weather. “This is my wife, Iminathi.”

Judy’s and Nick’s jaws drop. 

Bogo’s wife is a lioness.

“Iminathi,” Nick says, leaping out of his seat to shake her hand. “Beautiful. It is just so, so nice to meet you. You are so welcome here.”

“Thank you,” she answers, looking a little bewildered by Nick’s hospitality and Judy’s fervent nodding next to him. “Um, it’s nice to be here. I think I scared some of your cousins. Some of them seem looked like they’ve never seen a lion before.”

“They’ll have to get used to it,” Judy says. She feels light.

“I suppose so.” Iminathi links arms with Bogo. “Well, we just wanted to congratulate you, and let you know that we’d be delighted to invite you for dinner back in Zootopia. Let’s leave these love-bunnies alone and find some drinks, shall we, dear?”

“Yes, my love.” Bogo nods curtly at the two of them. “Don’t think this means you can get out of work on Monday. I require at least a three-week notice of any vacation you take.”

And he strides away, Iminathi graceful at side. 

“Well, I never,” Nick says, and Judy can’t agree with him more.

 

The ceremony ends long after the sun has set. Even after the last guests finally straggle back into their burrow, Nick and Judy remain, lying on a field and gazing up at the night sky.

“Look at all these stars!” Nick points at the constellations beaming down from above them. “You definitely don’t get this in the city. Hey, what do you think? Now that we’re married, is it time to get a nice place in the suburbs?”

Judy makes a face and Nick laughs, even though he can’t see her in the dark. “I’d rather have our dingy apartment.”

“Kidding.”

They say nothing for a while.

“You know it won’t get easier, right?” Nick says quietly, and she knows what he means without requiring explanation. “Everybody here tonight – well, probably everyone still has their reservations.”

“Do you?” Judy asks.

“No.” Nick turns to face her. “Not once.”

“Neither do I.” Judy leans over and nestles into the crook of his shoulder. She feels tired, but in the best possible way, as though she’s just completed her final obstacle course of trials, as though she’s fielded enough cases for a commendation. As though she’s just married the love of her life. At long last.

“Then we’ll make it work,” Nick says, and it’s so confident that Judy’s heart aches joyfully.

She finds her husband’s hand in the dark and holds on to it. “Come what may.”

**Author's Note:**

> Zootopia is pretty shameless about its racial symbolism, and I love it. After all, the soundtrack includes a number called “Some of My Best Friends Are Predators.” This fic was born when I began to wonder how Nick and Judy would be treated if they decided to get married. Would they be stigmatized the way interracial and LGBT couples are? This story was my best guess.


End file.
